


cat and dog

by rinkagaminesbooty



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Drama, Family Drama, Humor, Multi, Romance, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, Step-Sibling Incest, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8198186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinkagaminesbooty/pseuds/rinkagaminesbooty
Summary: "You can't just… accidentally give someone the cold shoulder for like, half a year." Eventual Rin/Len. Yes, it's incest, but like, the less immoral kind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's past midnight, the day of an exam, and here I am, cooking up a storm involving step-sibling incest.
> 
> What's new. Honestly.

**cat and dog**

⭐️

Having a panic attack in the bathroom on Friday afternoon was not a plan I had in mind, but here we are – you, me and the toilet seat.

Long story short, I don't really know why I'm here. It just happens, you know? Cripplingly low self esteem, the irrational fear that everyone hates me, existential dread – the usual angsty, irrelevant evolution stuff. I guess I could blame the judgemental gaze of my step-brother, but let's pretend just for a moment—a _moment_ —that I'm not obsessed with him.

Let's be honest: it's embarrassing.

Anyway, Friday afternoon, fifth period. I'm sitting on the toilet bawling my eyes out and suffocating on air. I don't necessarily do this often—I'm _tough_ , psh—but it was just one of Those Days, where Len's snotty attitude hits way too close to home.

"Rin?" someone calls into the bathroom, and I stop crying for a moment to listen. "Are you in here?"

"Miki?" I answer.

A redhead pops her head under the door of my cubicle, confirming my not-so-wild guess. Her eyebrows meet in the middle of her forehead when she sees my ugly, blotchy, crying face.

"Are you okay?" she asks, despite the clear evidence that I'm not okay.

"Yeah," I say automatically, despite the clear evidence that I'm _not okay_. It's just become habit to say I'm okay, even when I'm not. A bad habit to develop, probably, I know. I'll be on my deathbed in hospital, and they'll ask me, "Are you okay?" and I'll be like, "I'm okay." before immediately dying.

"Can you come out?" she then questions.

I proceed to burst into tears again.

"Okay, okay – don't come out. I'll come in. Hold on." Miki gets down on her stomach and wriggles under the door – despite the fact that this is the _bathroom floor_ she's wriggling across. Had I not been busy crying, I would have gagged.

She stands up in front of me and reaches out to pull me into her stomach – the clothes she'd just rubbed all over the dirty, e coli-covered floor. Her hand pats the top of my head, messing up my hair in the process.

But God, I do appreciate the hug. Miki is a godsend.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, in a much gentler tone.

"How many times have we already talked about that self-conceited dickhole?"

Miki sighs in thought. "But totally within reason. He needs a good ass-kicking."

"More than that."

She chuckles and pulls away. "Come on. Let's clean up your face. Otherwise the teacher will send out a search party, and…"

I stand, and we exit the cubicle and walk over to the sinks. I splash my face with some water and take a few deep breaths.

"We've only got twenty minutes left of class," Miki reassures, patting my shoulder.

I frown at her. "Yeah, and then it's the weekend with _him_. Our parents have gone to Hakone for a wedding, remember?"

Her smile falters. "If I could, Rin, I would offer you to sleep over at my place, but my grandparents are coming up and I need to help clean the house…"

"I know, I know. It's fine. I just – I'm scared. I know he won't _do_ anything to me—heck, he probably won't even acknowledge my existence—but that's what I'm afraid of," I say. I groan. "God, I sound so fucking needy."

Miki steers me towards the bathroom door. "You have a reason. I mean, the way he acts is so petty and cruel – and you haven't even _done_ anything."

"Well, we don't know about that. I _could've_ done something to piss him off, something that has managed to keep him pissed for like six months…"

"But that's what we can't figure out! _What_ pissed him off? As far as we're concerned, you haven't done _anything_."

Before I can answer, we reach the classroom door and Miki quietens down. "I'll talk to the teacher – you just sit down. And _don't_ look at him. Pretend he's dead."

"I can't _do_ that."

"Pretend he's a big piece of stinky shit you can't look at."

I can't help but smile. She sees my lips twitch and gives me a big grin.

We enter the classroom, and as promised, I go straight to my seat, not looking up once. Miki whispers something to the teacher, he nods and ushers her to sit before continuing the lesson.

The remaining 15 minutes feels the equivalent to having my soul torn from my body through my eyelids, strand by strand.

It doesn't help that I have the sensation Len's eyes are boring holes into the back of my head.

⭐️

So, long story short, that step-brother of mine used to be a really cool guy. Ever since our parents married six years ago, we'd been fairly close; we traded food we didn't like at dinner, nearly burnt down the kitchen trying to cook breakfast for Mum for Mother's Day last year, stayed up until three in the morning over the summer breaks battling each other in Super Mario Kart… vice versa. You could say we were best friends, and there was no way you'd ever see one of us without the other.

But, you know, like most comfortable, happy things – it came to an end sometime during winter vacation, when Len just went… Weird.

By weird, I mean he stopped talking to me completely – and wasn't even _nice_ about it. Whenever I tried to ask him something, or just start conversation in general, he would grunt and avoid my eyes and leave. He wouldn't look at me, making out such a gesture would _pain_ him incredibly.

Len, I'm well aware I'm ugly. You don't need to reinforce that – really.

He avoided me at school and made friends with some other kids—which, I would be fine with, had he not completely ditched me in the process—even telling people that we had nothing to do with each other. He'd purposely leave early or late so that he wouldn't have to walk to or from school with me, and then _glare_ at me in class and stuff as if my existence was cursed.

Seriously, man. What _is_ your problem?

Eventually, I broke down and told Miki what was happening – which was when we'd tried backtracking to winter vacation, thinking I'd done something to tick him off. But… we really couldn't think of anything – nothing I could recall, anyhow. Maybe he had stellar memory or something, and just got fed up with all the small things I'd done over the years? What, was he upset with me taking too long in the bath?

I don't know. I've even tried confronting him, but every time is a failed attempt. He just glares, shrugs his shoulders and hightails it. Very helpful.

Some days I feel I'm going to lose my shit and throw something at him, other days I just want to blame everything on me and cry myself to sleep. It's as if he's torn a hole in my heart, and I can't seem to find a way to fix it.

Help me. I'm a mess.

Yes, I know I sound a little like the overly attached girlfriend. I've always liked Len, probably too much given the fact that we're related legally through marriage, but… Let's get real here: unless I hope and wish and pray with malicious intentions our parents split up so I can have him to myself, I know where my boundaries lie, and respect just being his friend.

But now he acts like I've given him something incurable, and I'm absolutely _broken_. He might as well have just kicked me in the shins, stolen my heart and left me to die.

That explains why I dread this weekend. Our parents leave us to run the house and expect us to communicate for simple things like _dinner_ , when I know I'll ask him what he wants to eat and he'll just take a shit on the kitchen bench and leave.

(Figuratively. Though that would be an interesting, yet disgusting event if he ever did that.)

So, that takes me to staring at food in the grocery store, trying to brainstorm a dinner he might eat, so I can just cook up something and save being blatantly ignored in conversation (aka me procrastinating having to go home and face the wrath of – nothing, because he's locked himself in his room).

The only thing coming to mind, though, is grilled cheese.

Why.

After walking up and down the sauce aisle for thirty minutes, I decide on pasta, since _who doesn't like pasta?_

The TV is on when I step inside the apartment, playing the anime channel or whatever. As soon as the door slams shut behind me, the house goes silent, and I hear quick movement from the living room as Len evacuates to his room.

"Welcome home, Rin," I mutter to myself, changing into some slippers. "How was your day at school, Rin? I'm totally not being obvious with my avoidance of you, Rin. I'm glad you're here, Rin."

I'm so bitter about this.

I dump the ingredients for dinner on the bench and exhale very loud, and very slow, just so he knows I'm annoyed. I fight the urge to have a fit, and stand at the sink for a few moments, glaring over at his bedroom door, as if hoping some ethereal force will tear it open to reveal his soddy ass doing whatever.

Probably best that doesn't happen, actually. We may see things – horrible, unseeable things.

I unpack my bag and clean out my lunch box, leaving it to dry on the dish rack beside his. At least he didn't leave that job for _me_ to do. I then pour a glass of water and get to work.

Within that next hour of cooking, he doesn't leave his room once – not even to check on what I'm doing.

This kid. He knows how to get to me.

When I'm finished, I predict the future and put a plate of dinner for him in the microwave. Trust me, I've lost hope, and I know he'll wait for me to go have a bath until he emerges to eat dinner.

Even so, I call out, "Dinner's ready!"

Silence.

"And I put it in the microwave because I expect this, as always," I add, bitter. I don't even care if he heard me or not – he _knows_ what he's doing. You can't just… accidentally give someone the cold shoulder for like, _half a year_.

So, I eat dinner by myself, which is just about as exciting as it sounds. But the pasta I made _is_ pretty damn tasty, if I'm to boast. I hope he feels at least a _little_ guilty when eating this, for whatever reason.

After I finish, I wash up my dishes and go for a bath.

⭐️

So, as I'm running the water to fill up the bath, I realise I forgot to grab my pyjamas from my room.

You can see where this is going, right? Some nasty porn with plot, or something, I'm sure.

Oh, but trust me, if I go out there clad in a towel, and Len is eating dinner, he'll probably throw up or inhale his meal.

Either way, both sound like ideal reactions, considering they're not the typical _grumble_ and _shrug_ reactions he usually reserves for me.

I've already made my decision.

While the water fills the bath, I slink out of the bathroom and casually interrupt Len's amazingly delicious meal cooked by yours truly to get to my bedroom. Oh boy, Miki's going to love this story on Monday.

So, first of all, he doesn't notice me – then he does, and he starts in his seat, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. Within a breath, he registers I'm naked under the towel I've wrapped around my torso, and his eyes almost fall on the dinner plate.

I stare back at him, like, _what, what are you going to do about it, come on, give me something good, come oooon_.

The ass, he tears his gaze away and starts cramming the pasta into his mouth, so fast he starts choking.

Oh hell no. Don't you _dare_ suffocate on food, so I have to pretend I know how to do CPR and do all that weird, intimate stuff _naked_ –

He wheezes through it, thankfully, and I accidentally say aloud, "Jeez." so his eyes snap back up to mine, reminding me that I've been standing there, watching him for far too long to be _normal_ , naked, in nothing but a towel, while the bath is probably overflowing.

I blink and turn away as if nothing happened—ah, yes, the typical Len tactic—and resume retrieving my pyjamas from my room.

Somehow he manages to disappear from sight within those 30 seconds, which is an impressive feat, but he _did_ leave his dirty plate on the bench. I eye it, hoping he'll return to wash it up once I'm scarce.

(For your information, he does. If he didn't, I would be outside his bedroom, raising all hell. No one eats _my_ meals in this house and _doesn't_ clean up after themselves.)

Len doesn't emerge from his room for the rest of the night—except to have a bath and go to the toilet occasionally—but I still feel pretty smug about before, so I guess I'm satisfied with just that for now.

I sit back in my desk chair and tap my pencil against my chin. Maybe my way to survive this weekend is to make a goal to try everything in an effort to get different or interesting reactions out of Len… maybe even get him to _talk_ to me. Shock horror.

How many times can I walk around in a bath towel before it becomes, you know, creepy?

I wonder.

Hmm.

Unconsciously, I reach for my phone to talk to Miki. I've got some brainstorming to do.

**Author's Note:**

> I regret writing in first person, present tense already. Let me know if the tense is weird anywhere - I'm used to past tense nowadays...
> 
> Will this be a multi-chaptered fic? Or will I leave this collect dust forever? Who knows. Find out next time on Honey, We're Killing the Kids.
> 
> (In all honesty, this very unoriginal plot has been haunting me since 2011. I've attempted it many times, but to no avail... well, here's to hoping I'll find the time and motivation within the remaining weeks of university heck. Let me enjoy my guilty pleasures, please!)


End file.
